Foyle's Other War
by Sloane Ranger
Summary: Rupert isn't the only member of the Gile's family to have a run in with the law. What happens when his Grandmother meets Christopher Foyle.


As its Easter (or was when I wrote this) I thought I'd take a break from the More Things in Heaven and Earth saga and try something a bit different. I've never seen a Buffy/Foyles War crossover so I thought I'd do one and here it is. It's a complete story but if people like it, it could turn into an occasional series.

There's a Glossary at the end but non-English readers and English people who aren't history buffs.

Let me know what you think please.

**FOYLE'S OTHER WAR**

**20****th**** September 1940**

It was just past 5:00am and, although the eastern sky was beginning to lighten, dawn was still some time off. The weather remained mild autumn was drawing in but the last remnants of summer were holding on. The massed drone of aircraft engines filled the pre-dawn quiet. Detective Chief Superintendent Christopher Foyle paused before entering the station to look up. Although the craft were high, he could just about make out the outlines of the Nazi bombers returning from their raid. He wondered which unfortunate city or town had been the victim of their deadly payload. They were coming from the north so it seemed likely that London had endured another night of pounding. He thought of his son, Andrew, who was an R.A.F. fighter pilot and fought down the anxiety that gripped him. With the shortage of planes and trained pilots he would certainly have been scrambled to try to take out some of the enemy before they could drop their bombs on the populace crammed in their make-shift shelters.

"There doesn't seem as many now as there were on their way in, sir." The cheerful, optimistic voice of his driver, Samantha Stewart, on loan from the Mechanised Transport Corps, piped up. "Looks like our chaps did them some damage."

Foyle forced a smile on to his face, "Yes," he said. "It does."

Sam gave him an understanding look. "Andrew will be all right." She said. "He's one of the most experienced pilots we have."

"Yes." Foyle said again. He straightened his shoulders. It was time to get on with his job. "Wait for me here, Sam." He ordered and strode into the station.

Detective Sergeant Paul Milner limped towards him as soon as he entered the front office. Milner had joined up early in the war and lost his leg at Trondheim during the ill-fated Norwegian Campaign. In peacetime he would have been invalided out of the police force but now, with so many police officers having volunteered or been called up, experienced police officers, especially those who were good at their job, were at a premium.

"What have we got?" Foyle asked.

Milner waved a paper at him. "Not sure as yet, sir, but it looks like a triple murder." He glanced at the note. "At Ivy Farm, just outside Guestling. The victims are the farmer, a Henry Perkins, his wife, Martha and their married daughter Mary Dance."

Foyle groaned inwardly. Tonight German bombers had let loose a rain of death on the people of a town or city here in England and young British men had fired on those bombers and brought some down, killing their crew. Wasn't there enough death already, without adding to the toll?

"Let's get over there then." Was all he said, however. "You can fill me in on the rest on the way."

He turned and led the Detective Sergeant to the car. Sam was waiting in the driving seat.

"Take us to Ivy Farm in Guestling." Foyle ordered.

Sam nodded and as soon as both officers were in the car, she started the vehicle.

Foyle settled back as the car rumbled through the empty streets of Hastings. "All right, Milner. Go on."

"As I said, sir." The Detective Sergeant replied. "We don't have much. It appears that the ARP Warden was doing his rounds when he noticed that lights were showing at the farm. He went over and heard the sounds of a struggle inside the house so he went back to the village and reported it to the local constable. They both returned and, when they didn't get a response to their knocking, they tried the door and found it unlocked. They went in and found the bodies in the parlour."

With no other traffic on the road, the car was soon pulling up outside an ancient farmhouse. A battered Austin was already parked outside. As petrol was rationed, Foyle assumed it belonged to the local police doctor. The eastern sky was light now and dawn would come shortly. A uniformed police constable came bustling out of the house towards the car, followed by an elderly man in the uniform of an ARP Warden. They both did a double take as Sam slipped out of the driving seat and opened the door to allow Foyle and Milner to get out, but rapidly pulled themselves together, after all there was a war on and women were doing all sorts of things that had been unthinkable before.

The young constable saluted his superior officers. Foyle recognised him with some relief. P.C. Dawes, a bright officer who was waiting to be called up under the National Service Act.

"The bodies are being examined by Doctor McCarthy, sir." He said, confirming Foyle's assumption. "This is Mr. Hedges, the witness."

"How do you do." Foyle greeted the man. "Please tell us what you saw and heard in as much detail as you can."

"Well, sir." Mr. Hedges began as Milner quietly took out his notebook and began to write. "Yesterday was Tuesday and I normally leave it to half nine or so before checking the Perkins blackout as they go to see her mother over at Guestling Green every week and don't get back till about then. But I didn't actually get here until elevenish as I had more of a problem with Mrs. Bell at Wisteria Cottage than usual…"

"She's not all there, sir. She's kept a light burning in her window ever since her son was killed in the last war. Refuses to blackout, says he won't be able to find his way home if he can't see the light." Dawes explained.

"Anyway," Hedges continued. "When I got here, there was a light showing from the kitchen window. I came over to tell them about it, but as I approached I heard the sound of a fight. It was like they were throwing furniture at each other, just like in a western. That's when I heard the voices, a man and a woman…"

"Did you recognise either of them?" Milner asked.

Hedges shook his head. "The man's voice sounded familiar but he was talking soft like and I couldn't hear him clearly. The woman's though. Her voice was clear as a bell. She sounded young. It wasn't Martha's, nor yet, Mary's and she was speaking German!"

Foyle sighed, ever since Dunkirk, only three months ago, people were seeing Fifth Columnists everywhere and gossip about highly placed traitors was never far below the surface. "You're sure it was German?" he asked. "There are a lot of refugees who speak languages very similar to it."

The elderly man looked offended. "I was in the last one. I fought at the Somme. I know Jerry when I hear it. She shouted 'Teufel', which means 'devil' and something about 'blut', it sounded like Blut sausage! Anyway, I crept away and went and got young Billy here. We came back and found the bodies. If you want my opinion that Jerry girl killed them! Part of Hitler's plan to reduce civilian morale, that's what it is!"

Foyle smiled politely at the man. "Thank you very much, Mr Hedges. We'll have your statement typed up for you to sign. In the meantime, if you remember anything else, please let us know."

He strode past the A.R.P. Warden into the farmhouse. It was easy to find the parlour, there were only three downstairs rooms and the door to the crime scene was wide open. He paused at the door to take in the scene. An elderly male was slumped in an armchair, his face set in an expression of shock and horror. An elderly lady was lying at his feet, while the body of the third victim, a young woman, was lying across the room.

It was clear that Mr. Hedges hadn't been exaggerating when he had talked about a fight. The room was a mess, with smashed furniture everywhere.

Kneeling over the body of the young woman was a white haired man. Foyle took a breath and sneezed.

The man looked up. "Aye, there's a lot of dust in here." He pointed to the other corner "There's a pile of it over there." and frowned. "And that's most unlike Martha, a more house-proud woman you wouldn't find."

"Doctor McCarthy, I presume?" Foyle asked.

"That would be me." The man confirmed. "You'll be the detectives then. I heard you outside." He straightened up with a groan, his hand massaging his back. "I'm getting too old for this, would have retired this year if it hadn't been for the war."

"So, what is the cause of death?" Foyle asked.

The doctor grunted. "Exsanguination." He gestured towards the corpse he was kneeling over. "Poor, Mary, I brought her into the world and now I've seen her out of it." He shook his head. "It's almost like fate has it in for this family. First young Jack dies and now this…Anyway," He pointed towards her throat. "See there? Two incisions about two and a half to two and three quarter inches apart, right over the carotid artery. There's no other wounds on the body so the blood must have been drained through them. The other two bodies are the same."

Milner had entered the room as the doctor was speaking. He looked around. "Where's the blood?" he asked. "If these people bled to death you'd expect the place to be swimming in the stuff but there's not enough for a nose bleed here."

The doctor nodded. "Aye, I was thinking the same thing. If I were a superstitious man, I'd be talking about … but it's a good thing I'm not or I wouldn't be sleeping at night ever again."

As the doctor and Milner were talking Foyle had been wandering around the room. He picked up a photograph of the three victims standing with a young man. The picture had been taken outside the farmhouse and all four were laughing. From the young man's resemblance to the others it was clear they were related.

"Is this Jack?" he asked.

The doctor looked. "Aye, the son. Got called up to the Army a few months ago and got killed on some training exercise. The family got the telegram a couple of weeks back. The Army was going to return the body for burial, but a few days ago they sent word that they'd misplaced the body. Idiots, no wonder we had Dunkirk!"

"Where's Mrs. Dance's husband?" Milner asked.

Doctor McCarthy shrugged. "You'll have to ask the Navy that. He's on a destroyer somewhere."

Milner made a note. "We'll do that." He said.

The doctor looked shocked. "You don't think he killed them? They were a devoted couple! This news is going to destroy him!"

Foyle moved in to calm the situation. "We don't think anything at the moment, Doctor, but we have to consider all possibilities. Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge against the Perkins? Have there been any strangers asking about them?"

The doctor considered. "No, the Perkins were decent people. They weren't the sort to drive people to murder. As for strangers…I don't remember anyone." "Billy!" he called and P.C. Dawes popped his head through the doorway. "Mr. Foyle wants to know if anyone's been asking after the Perkins?"

Dawes considered, "No." he finally said. "We used to get a lot of holiday-makers before the war but you rarely see a stranger round here now." He paused as a thought struck him and went on, excitedly. "There's Mrs. Giles and her niece. They arrived from London yesterday afternoon. The niece's got a Swiss passport and her name sounds Jerry, Matthilde Grunwald!"

McCarthy eyes brightened. "Oh, aye, them!" He turned to Foyle. "They arrived in a car and put up at the 'The Plough'. I dropped in for a pint last night and got speaking to Mrs. Giles. She's an interesting lady, very well read. In a small place like this you miss talking with other educated people. She said she and her niece had left London to escape the bombing. Despite the niece having a Jerry sounding name, I can't believe they're involved in this. Mrs. Giles was with me until closing time and the girl's a slip of a thing, no more than sixteen or seventeen!"

Foyle sighed. It looked like they would have to chase up the foreign killer angle after all. "Do you have a time of death Doctor?" he asked.

The elderly man shrugged. "Some time last night. That's all I can tell without a full post mortem. The ambulance is on the way and I'll get the pathologist to perform the P.M. as soon as the bodies arrive."

"Thank you. You've been most helpful." Foyle said. He looked down thoughtfully at the pile of dust in the corner away from the bodies. "That's an awful lot of dust for even the laziest housewife. Dawes, please wait with the Doctor until the bodies have been collected, then remain here until the fingerprint team arrives. Make sure they collect a sample of this dust and send it to the scientific chaps for analysis."

P.C. Dawes saluted. "Yes, sir."

"Milner, you and I are going to "The Plough"." Foyle looked at his watch. "With any luck we might even catch breakfast."

Foyle and Milner discussed the case as Sam drove them back to the village. Foyle noticed that Sam was quieter than normal. Usually she was eager to join in their conversation and offer her own thoughts on the case. In fact, he had had to tell her off for this more than once. This time, she appeared to be listening closely but said nothing. Finally, she pulled up outside the pub, a two-storey building dating from the Tudor period. Parked outside was a gleaming Bentley surrounded by a small knot of young, and not so young, admirers.

"Doctor McCarthy said they'd arrived in a car, sir." Milner reminded his boss.

Foyle looked at the car. In this time of shortages only a very few people drove around in cars like this, senior government and military officers, the very wealthy, who could afford to buy petrol coupons on the black market and the spivs who sold the petrol coupons. He wondered which category Mrs. Giles and her niece fell into.

He got out of the car followed by Milner and leaned in to say to Sam. "We may be some time. See if you can arrange something to eat for us all will you?"

Sam's grin was wide as she said. "Yes, sir!" enthusiastically. She had a healthy appetite and food rationing left her feeling constantly hungry. It was a well known fact that, here in the country, luxuries unavailable in the towns, like real eggs and bacon could still be found.

Leaving Sam to her dreams of a full English breakfast Foyle and Milner entered the saloon bar. Despite the early hour the publican was up, busily collecting used pint mugs from the empty tables. He looked up.

"What can I do you gentlemen?" he asked.

Foyle showed him his warrant card. "Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle." He introduced himself. "I'd like to speak to you about your guests."

"Ah, Mrs. Giles and Miss Grunwald. They're in the back room having breakfast." The publican replied. "What's wrong?" he asked, in an alarmed tone. "I checked their papers and they were all in order. Mrs. Giles is proper gentry and Miss Grunwald is some distant relation of the family. She's not German, she's Swiss. It said so on her passport and she has papers from the Alien's Registration Office and everything. Mrs. Giles said her family sent her to England in case Hitler tries to invade Switzerland."

"It's all right." Foyle replied, soothingly. "I'm not suggesting you're harbouring spies but I am interested in their whereabouts yesterday evening."

"Oh, well, they had dinner at about seven o'clock, then Miss Grunwald went upstairs. She said she was going to read before going to bed. Mrs. Giles sat in the Snug talking with Doctor McCarthy until closing time. Then she went to bed as well."

"I see their car's outside." Foyle prompted.

The publican nodded. "Yes. They're on their way to Wiltshire where her Father-in-law has his country house. They're going to stay there during the bombing of London."

"Hum, I'd like to see their room please."

"Yes, Mr. Foyle. This way." The publican turned and led them through a door into the interior of the pub. They climbed a narrow flight of stairs and found themselves in a corridor. The man led them to an open door and they saw a pleasant bedroom with two single beds, a large wardrobe, a dressing table and a small table on which rested a washing bowl.

Foyle glanced round the room. It was empty and the beds had been stripped. He walked across to the window and opened it. It was a large window, recently changed to open at the side rather than push up.

Milner joined him. "It's at the back and not overlooked by any other house." He observed. Then he looked down. "But it's a nine foot drop to the ground and nothing to hold on to. There's no way she could have got out that way without making a lot of noise."

Foyle pointed to some scuff marks on the window sill. "Someone did and not too long ago. These are fresh. And who goes to Wiltshire by way of Sussex? I think we need to speak to Mrs. Giles and her niece. There are a lot of things that don't add up."

The two officers walked into the backroom to see the two women finishing their toast. At first glance they didn't look like murderers. The older woman had a pleasant face, her brown hair, flecked slightly with grey was pulled back in a bun and she wore pince-nez. The girl was dark haired and petite but she looked tired and there was some other emotion flickering across her face that Foyle couldn't identify Anger? Guilt?

"Mrs. Giles? I'm from the police, Detective Superintendent Foyle. This is Detective Sergeant Milner. May we sit down please?"

The woman inclined her head, graciously. "Of course."

"I'm told you're on your way to your father-in-law's country house in Wiltshire." Foyle began. "It seems a rather unusual route, especially with petrol rationing."

"You're right of course, officer." Mrs. Giles began smoothly. "Actually the house has not been lived in since the outbreak of the war and it needed to be properly prepared for our arrival. As I wanted to get Matthilde away from the bombing as quickly as possible I came here as friends of mine recommended the area. I also thought that Mattie would benefit from the country air."

"I see. And would that include her enjoying that air by wandering around the countryside after dark?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your niece, if she is your niece, climbed out of your room last night and ended up in the middle of a murder."

Mrs. Giles looked offended. "I don't know where you have heard this preposterous story from, Mr. Foyle but I assure you it is completely untrue. Mattie went to our room after dinner and she was there when I went up at eleven o'clock."

Foyle decided to up the pressure. "In that case, you must be an accessory since we have a witness putting Miss Grunwald at the scene of the crime. I must ask you both to accompany us to the station."

Mrs. Giles glared at him and was about to say something when Sam's voice floated across the room.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry to interrupt but I know you speak some German. How would you say "blood-sucker" in that language?"

Foyle turned to tell her off, she knew better than to walk in on an interview with a suspect, then realised what she was saying. "Blut sauger" he said, "It does sound like blut sausage. But what makes you think that's the word the witness overheard?"

Sam turned to the older woman. "You'd better tell him." She advised. "Mr. Foyle is like a terrier. He won't rest until he gets to the truth."

Foyle looked at Mrs. Giles as she considered his driver. There was calculation there and something else, perhaps recognition. He noted that the normally sensible Sam was ignoring the woman and staring at the young Swiss girl in something approaching awe.

"Who are you?" Mrs. Giles asked.

Sam turned her eyes away from the girl long enough to reply. "Sam Stewart, Ma'am. I was a Potential."

"Ah yes, I remember you now. Your Watcher was Mr. Wyndham-Price. He always spoke highly of you." Mrs Giles appeared to come to a decision. "Very well. Listen very carefully gentlemen, this is a story that is rarely heard outside of a very select circle. I ask you to reserve your expressions of disbelief until I have finished it."

"The world is older than you know and contrary to popular opinion it did not begin as a paradise…"

"The Perkins' were killed a vampire!" Milner exclaimed when the older woman had finished. "What rubbish!"

"Not just any vampire, Sergeant," Mrs. Giles said calmly. "By the demon inhabiting the dead body of their son. Mattie and I have been tracking it for days. Once we knew the identity of the vampire we knew where it was heading and came here hoping to stop it feeding off the Perkins family. Unfortunately we were too late."

"Assuming for a moment that vampires exist, why would it seek out James' family particularly?" Foyle asked.

"Family blood is sweetest." Sam replied, quietly and Mrs. Giles nodded.

"Quite. Many of them seem to go out of their way to kill the family of the corpse they inhabit."

"And you're trying to tell us that this…girl…killed it?" Milner's voice was thick with disbelief.

"Is it anymore unbelievable than Mattie being able to murder three people, Sergeant?"

"Murderers exist, vampires don't!"

"She is the Slayer, the one girl in all the world to find them where they gather and to stop the spread of their evil…the swell of their numbers." Sam chanted softly, almost longingly. She turned to Foyle. "Look sir, we've known each other for several months now and we've been through some things. You know I'm not some flipperty gibbet. Please believe me when I say Mrs. Giles is telling you the truth. Vampires exist and so do demons. I was identified as a potential Slayer and trained to fight them in case I was Chosen. These people are engaged in a war. It has gone on almost as long as the human race has existed and will still be going on when this war against the Nazi's is a footnote in history books. Trust me!" She looked imploringly at her boss.

Foyle considered. The story was unbelievable but Sam was the epitome of commonsense and he did trust her. If she believed this, then perhaps there was something in it. The evidence linking Mrs. Giles and the so far silent Swiss girl to the crime was tenuous at the moment and the older woman had been careful to avoid any direct admissions during her story. He came to a decision.

"I'm letting you go, for the moment, but if any evidence comes to light that contradicts your story, you will both be arrested and charged with murder."

Mrs. Giles nodded. "Thank you Mr. Foyle. Mattie and I will be on our way. We will be at my Father-in-law's place for the next couple of weeks if you need to contact us again." She smiled at Sam. "It's nice to have met you, Miss Stewart and thank you for your timely assistance.

**Epilogue **

"Yes?" Foyle said as he heard the light tap on his office door.

Milner opened the door and laid a sheaf of papers on the desk. The pathologist's report on the Perkins case has just arrived sir, along with one from the lab they sent that dust to."

Foyle became alert instantly. "What do they say?"

"Well, they confirm that death was due to exsanguination in all three cases and that the victims were all in good health and had no other wounds beside the puncture marks over their carotid arteries. The pathologist says they look like they were caused by incisors. All he can suggest is that they were attacked by wild animals of some sort." Milner shook his head. "It's almost enough to make you believe…"

"And what about the dust?"

"It contained carbon, sir, along with calcium, phosphorous and traces of other minerals. They say the closest thing they've ever seen to it are cremation ashes."

Foyle sat back. "Well, it may not confirm their story but it doesn't contradict it either."

"What do you want me to do?"

Foyle thought carefully. He was by nature an honest man but putting down in writing what Sam believed had happened was not an option.

"File it as unsolved." He finally decided.

The End.

**Glossary **

ARP Warden – An official responsible for enforcing the blackout.

Blackout – In an effort to avoid offering targets for enemy bombers it was forbidden for buildings to show lights after dark. Most homes used heavy curtains for this purpose.

Jerry – a slang term for German's in common usage throughout the Second World War.

Mechanised Transport Corps – a uniformed woman's service providing drivers for official vehicles, freeing up men for fighting.

National Service Act – an law requiring all men between the ages of 18 – 41 to register for conscription to the armed services. It was later extended to cover most women as well although, in most cases, women were not expected to serve on the front lines.

Rationing – Food and many other things were in short supply during the war. In order to conserve supplies and ensure everyone received enough to live on, the government introduced rationing. Households received coupons which they could then exchange for specified items.

Snug – a small, partitioned area in a public house.


End file.
